We don't own flash cards or go to Mandarin Chinese lessons. I can call a spade a spade, a rip-off a rip-off and a Baby Einstein video a baby-crack de-mobilizing device. I am (relatively!) calm in the face of injury and illness and the only reason all my outlets have the plastic pluggy things is
because we requested that the previous owners of our house leave them.
(Seriously. It's in the contract. Plastic pluggy things to convey.) I believe that children don't really need to be pushed and entertained and enriched 24 hours a day, and that basically all my son needs is love, a (relatively!) safe environment to explore, free time to do that exploring, and a mother who doesn't eat all the Goldfish crackers.

We've never been to the emergency room or used our pediatrician's after-hours answering service. I shrug when he eats dirt and bathe him every other day. I believe that tantrums are an annoying but necessary part of a child's journey towards language, that milestone charts should be taken with a grain --make that a rim -- of salt, and that my kid doesn't need to be doing the same things your kid does.

I believe that I have been blessed with a healthy, normal and perfectly average child, and while I know I am not a perfect mother I believe I am damn good enough.

And yet something happens to me during the 20 minutes or so that I spend waiting for the actual doctor at Noah's pediatrician's office. Something...insane.

The nurse comes in, checks Noah's weight and height and head circumferance, asks a couple milestone questions -- and then says the doctor will be in shortly.

And that's when I crumble. I obsess and overanalyze. I become convinced that something -- no, EVERYTHING -- is massively wrong.

Linda wrote about those goofy milestone questions a couple weeks ago and confessed to being flummoxed by the block-stacking one.
I felt a twinge of relief when I read that, because at least I know
that Noah stacks blocks. He is a block-stacking genius. Five or six
blocks at a time! Mega-Blocks stacked as tall as his head! This next
visit will be a piece of cake!

And it was. At first. Noah's not much of a talker yet, but I felt
confident that we fell within the "four-to-ten words" spectrum. He does
not, however, know his body parts.

He will maybe lift his shirt to show you his belly, if you ask, and if
he's in the mood. (Hint! He is never in the mood.) If you ask the
question when he's naked, however, he just sort of...pinches his chest
where his shirt would be. So I would not really count that as
Harvard-level body-part identification skills there.

Oh! And this one: Can he drink from a cup without spilling?

Me: blink. blink blink.

It has never even occurred to me to hand Noah an actual cup. Why would
I do that? It's madness! It's like when my mother-in-law gave me a set
of FINGER PAINTS for Noah. FINGER PAINTS! That's bullshit, man. I
graciously thanked her and then hid them in the basement, since I plan
to keep Noah unaware of finger paints until junior high.

Wait. Why did she measure his height again after getting his weight? Oh, Jesus. He's underweight. Terribly malnourished. Look at him! You can see his ribs! His belly is fat, but...oh, Jesus. It's fucking DISTENDED. How did I miss that?

And then the nurse came back in after a couple minutes to re-measure Noah's head. Which meant...oh, Jesus. Look at him! Look at that gigantic head! He's a Q-tip! He's got fluid on the brain! He's got craniosynostosis! How did I miss that?

So for 20 minutes this morning, I sat in a small exam room, terrified out of my damn mind. My poor child. My poor underweight hydrocephalic cup-challenged child who couldn't find his nose with both hands and a flashlight. He deserves so much more. He deserves a mother who knows when something isn't right and calls the doctor right away. A mother who doesn't leave him to be raised by wolves or Noggin or the dustbunnies. A mother who will sit there with some body-part flashcards and GET HIM UP TO SPEED ALREADY.

I glanced through all the paperwork the nurse gave me (potty-training, vaccines, sample college application essay questions) and noticed that Noah was supposed to have a check-up at 15 months. Which he did not. Because I did not know that.

Oh, Jesus. Now they're calling Child Protective Services. Look, he has a scratch on his shoulder. Where did that come from?

Seriously. I tried singing to him, like I was trying to cram at the last minute for an exam in parental involvement. Noah let me sing one line and screeeeeched for me to stop, shaking his head no and wailing in misery. I gave up and started fattening him up with Goldfish crackers.Noah - 18 monthsweight - 25 pounds evenheight - 33.5 incheshead circumference - 19.5 inches

I've been blessed with a healthy, normal and perfectly average child, and that is damn good enough.

Comments

O.k. Yeaaah, I am the first one to post today. I love your blog and I am coming outa the closet for the first time to say I read your blog everyday.
You are right Noah is starting to look more like a little boy and not an infant.
He is darn handsome.

If it makes you feel any better, I do that too. Totally fine and normal but then I catch sight of those white Dr coats or the nurse's shoes and I lose my ever-lovin' mind.
But the kids are still alive and in my care so it must not be too bad. Right?

Love the airplane pic. Noah is very handsome boy, and I can't wait to have one of my own. Except, well, one that looks like a clone of my husband not yours, because then family members will be looking for the mailman. I appreciate that you can just be honest and candid about your approach to motherhood, because I don't feel like I'm the only one out there who doesn't think my baby should speak more languages than I do - unless, of course, he can negotiate better prices on things from Cabo San Lucas, in that case, that'll work.

"he's a q-tip!" hahaha...you had me laughing out loud at work prompting me to explain the outburst to my co-workers with something like "oh, the uh, spreadsheet here has a funny little...uh..nevermind."

My almost 26 month old is 26 lbs, 33.5 inches, and a 19 inch head...so Noah sounds just perfect to me. :)

On Monday, the wee one had 3 doctor appointments. We were gone from 7:30am-5:30pm. I think you would have died from a heart attack, with all those white coats judging you and asking you all sorts of questions. *lol*

Well I'm impressed quite impressed by his remote fetching skills. Seriously, I can't even get my roommate to find the remote, but Noah can do it by the end credits of Blue's Clues.

He also can pick out his own song to sleep to and knows to give a kiss before going to bed and bonus! He points to me or at least in my general direction when I ask "Where's Heather?" So! He seems pretty kick ass and awesome to me. But of course, I'm biased.

My oldest son didn't visit the ER till he was 16 and the rope swing broke in the jungle gulch behind our house... o sweet jesus, waiting for my husband to run down there and scope things out and revive him (my son! was! unconscious!) and carry him out of there was the LONGEST FIVE MINUTES OF MY LIFE. I made all kinds of promises to all kinds of deities during those five minutes. Maybe I sold my soul! It was THAT scary.

Of course, he was fine--a mild concussion and a few stitches--but I learned anew how deep and intense my fears are for my kids. Motherhood for neurotics is a long, strange, scary trip, isn't it? But from here, Amy, it sounds like you've got the fundamentals down pat. You're doing a great job, and the proof is right there in your lap, or under the table trolling for Cheerios, or chasing Dogalah around the living room. Noah is perfect... but you already knew that, didn't you? :o) Hugs from Hawai`i...

oh no! we go for Avery's 9 month appointment next week and I am sure she weighs 21 pounds. No lie. She's a fatty compared to Noah's 25--and he is twice her age. Dang it. And they will be in the same grade. If they were at the same school he would probably say "boom boom boom boom" when she walked by him. Or do the truck backing up sound (beep beep beep beep) if she were to ever go in reverse. My poor child!

Noah is in good shape. Professional mothers make me want to hit them upside the head with their flashcards. BTW, my 3YO is not much more beyond 25 lbs. Skinny, but healthy and energetic so I don't worry about it. He quit eating at 18 months and hasn't really taken it up again.

Ok, I'm freaking out right now and I'm just sitting on the couch. My son is not yet 10 months old and he is BIGGER than Noah. He exceeds 95th percentile for height and weight and we know those charts are the gospel of good mothering. OHMYGOD, I've got a giant freak baby. He's 28lbs and 32 inches. Oh yeah...and he isn't crawling yet. And even if there's nothing wrong with him at all...I'm still gonna feel guilty about it.

He looks great, Amy. You are clearly doing the important things just right. I second the motion to put that 'little man' picture up by yours. Don't worry, my neice is way, way, WAY behind Noah and she's a bit older, too. No worries, yeah?

What a great post! I didn't get to the only semi-freaked out stage until the 3rd kid. By this point, I figure that if all 3 are still alive, eat a couple times a day and are relatively clean, I'm not doing too bad. But I still have freak-outs at the doctor's office. Because the body part knowing skills are lacking in this household as well.

What a great post! I didn't get to the only semi-freaked out stage until the 3rd kid. By this point, I figure that if all 3 are still alive, eat a couple times a day and are relatively clean, I'm not doing too bad. But I still have freak-outs at the doctor's office. Because the body part knowing skills are lacking in this household as well.

I TOTALLY had the distended belly fear-mostly because my child eats no vegetables, and seemed to also be knock-kneed. So I was convinced he had rickets. And at the 18 month visit with my only-sort-of-talking child, I was already asking questions about autism. Of course by 2 he had a full vocabulary-I only had to introduce a sibling to spur the talking...

Fingerpaints are awesome! If you get the crayola washables ones. You just strip them down to their diapers and then strap them into their booster/high chair and tape the paper down. I actually only tried it because I thought my kid was the only kid NOT doing it and I thought "no! My child will not be behind the rest of the world with the fingerpainting!" but it turns out very few of our friends are doing it. She loves it though..and it's fairly neat when you tape the paper down and then march their dirty butts right up to the bath afterwards.

But on all the rest of the stuff..been there done that! You do a great job!

No kids (yet?) -- just cats -- so I'll talk about myself. :D I found my baby book the other day and read with great interest the section about things I was supposed to be able to do at certain months. When I mastered something earlier than the book suggested (recommended?) I actually heard myself say, "Yeah!" Like the fact that I could roll over at X months instead of Y months makes me some kind of genius now. Which, of course, it does. :>

This post made me laugh out loud - thanks for sharing! When my son was 18 months old, the pediatrician predicted (based on his measurements that day) that he would be a six-foot-seven, 180 pound adult. Think the gangliest NBA player you've ever seen...

Tee- I do the same thing. Especially with my first, I'd completely panic and then overcompensate by boasting loudly about how great my daughter was while they asked me those questions. Now, at my third? Yeah, the doctor asked me some questions and I had NO IDEA what the answer was. "Can he say 'mama'?" Ummmm...probably? I think so. I dunno, really. I can't even really hear you, doc, over the other 2 kids. "When did he start trying to pull himself to standing?" WHAT??? (while spinning around and seeing him pulling himself up on the doctor's chair...)

I hate those guidelines. I know why they're there, but darn it, they cause so much stress!

I despise those damn question they ask you at the doctors office! "What words does he say?" "Can he use the pincher grasp" or whatever the hell it is! HAHA It's just annoying. My doctors office even asks us EVERY time we go "And who lives with him?" Damn, it's just annoying! Noah is perfect just the way he is! Period!

Ya know, when I read that you never called the doc's after-hours answering service, I thought, "A thousand blessings on you and your generations forevermore". Because I could just strangle those people who seem to think that I'm sitting at a computer with nothing better to do than discuss a rash over the phone. (I can't see it. Really, I can't. And it's 3 AM. Shut up.) The doctor on call has worked A Very Long Day and has Another Very Long Day ahead of her, and the milk of human kindness has often run quite dry by the tenth call for "forgotten" Vicodin scripts.

Anyway.

Where was I going besides hijacking your blog?

Oh yes.

Then I died laughing at your panic at the well child visit. I had no idea parents did this. To me, all those questions say Yes, I am a Very Smart Doctor, and taking Very Good Care of your child, see all my Documentation of Very Important Milestones?

I didn't realize that it felt like the Gestapo on the other side.

How can I make this easier for ya'll? (Heck, I don't even have kids. I just read off the chart to see what they should be doing. And then I give parenting advice! Hah! ROFL.)

Thanks for letting me know why I get deer-in-headlights looks sometimes. I had no idea.

I totally laughed out loud reading that. Our 20 month old will be going for her 18 month immunizations next week. Oops. Did we forget to book those? And what? Does she refuse and kick and scream everytime I attempt to cut her nails and now they are so sharp and thin that she has scratches all over her bum because grabs her bum in the tub when she is tired... I could go on but the neglect I inflict on her is probably apparent.

Dude, I'm descending into the madness with you. Anders is 8 months old and 24 pounds. 24 POUNDS and probably never learning to crawl because he can't lift his tank of a body off the floor. Which means I will be carrying him around for the rest of my life just like Angelina and Maddox. Sweet.

My best friend picks up her kid's pacifier off the floors of restaurants and gives it right back to him (much to the disapproval of nearby patrons). And you know what? He's still never been sick a day in his life.

Ok.. I'll admit I have the Baby Einstein cards - my kids like them. In all other respects I sound a lot like Amy. But I'm on the other side of the milestone thing. They do serve a purpose - We found out our 18 month old son has the speech skills of a 9 month old. He babbles a little, coos, giggles, but not one word. We are getting him help, NOW before he ends up in kindergarten grunting like a Cro-Magnon.
He can point to body parts though. Head, belly, feet, and junk. He's a boy, he grabs it, may as well name it, right?

I never realized just HOW MUCH he looks like you until this photo. It's uncanny! Look! He's your boy! (You totally lucky hag. My child looks exactly like Daddy and thus when yelling, "NOOOOO" as I drag her through the store, more than a few people wonder if they should call 911...)

My daughter had a 'obligatory' medical appointment with the regional doctor just before she was to admitted to grade 1.

She was feeling goofy that day but the doctor was seriously without humour and because daughter didn't feel like speaking properly the doctor "COMMANDED" an appointment with a speech therapist for a check up.

I ignored the command because I knew perfectly well that my daughter was "taking the piss". Then I got a letter in the mail from the school board that said "GET YOU TO THE SPEECH THERAPIST OR FEEL OUR WRATH".

God.

So we went and wasted my time and the speech therapists time but at least the school board is off my back now...

Ha! Isn't it the truth how the dr's can make you flip right the hell out when you *know* your kid is ok? Mine wouldn't stack blocks, but I have a photo of him stacking LeapFrog magnetic letters 13 high (they don't magnetize when stacked, so it's good). Mine had *just barely* started to walk before his appt (right at the end of the "acceptable range for walking") and the dr wanted to see him again in 6m because she wasn't happy with his gait. He'd just started!! Dr's don't understand how messed up they can make Mom's feel. You know your kid better than they do.

Crap! After reading this post I was OBLIGATED to google 'developmental milestones age 3' and now I am freaking out. I woke up feeling great about my parenting skillz, now I need some therapy! It was probably good to review so I can prepare myself for the well child check in June. And by prepare, of course I mean cram for the test. Is that wrong? ;)

I hate to be the one to tell you this (though judging by the bazillion comments above, I might not be the only one to do this), but while you have a point to make in tantrums being part of the language development journey, those tantrums will likely continue even after he's perfectly able to tell you why the hell he doesn't want his goddamn shoes on.

My 4 year-old sister refused to talk until she was nearly 3. Everyone was so worried, but my dad said it was probably a good thing because when she did start talking (which she did) she would never shut up (which she doesn’t). Until then, she just used “No” and “Coke” which seem to suit every situation in which verbal communication was necessary. Oh, and for nearly a year, the only thing she would eat was Spicy Doritos, apple juice and ranch dressing. Despite her eating habits, she’s a perfectly healthy little girl who loves to challenge my dad to push-up contests. Noah seems to be a bright, healthy ABDORABLE child. He makes me want one of my own. But only if I could guarantee to have one that cute! ~ L

I totally understand. My daughter flatly refuses to talk, I have heard her whispering words to herself...testing them out, but she just won't talk! She signs just fine, and yells. She eats when the mood suits her and stacks things to climb on them (uh, I think that counts as stacking blocks right) as far as I am concerned, I believe that the doctors are doing their best, but for the most part, each kid is COMPLETELY different. She's alive, she's happy, she easts/sleeps/poops regularly...shes good

I fell prey to all crap when my oldest was entering pre-K. He went a year early because he was speech delayed (he's right on track now) and the teacher marked him down for not being able to use a pair of scissors. SCISSORS. I calmly explained to her that was because I've never given him a pair of scissors. I've found that tactic works for me every time.

When my sister was 2 (we're 15 years apart), I sat her down on the tile floor naked with finger paints. I framed the end result for our mom on mother's day. 15 years later it still hangs in her office. She gets asked all the time who the artist is! Give him the finger paints!

Very funny as always. And true. My friend is a physical therapist who works just with infants and kids. She said to me, your son has great gross motor skills. I guess she would know. This was before I remember what she did for a living so I thought it was an odd comment.

Can I say that my son at 2 3/4 can leap from one chair to the couch? My husband lets him jump off of the couch. Ugh.

I had to laugh because as a Mom for the second time around, I should know about the 15 month appointment, but I still didn't take her. I wanted to wait on the vaccine and knew they'd pressure me so I thought screw it. It's not like we haven't been there for the winter sick season of hell enough this winter.

It is funny how competitive we become when we are under pressure. I obsessed for days when everyone we knew said 'oh yeah my kid can count to 10 and even 20.' My son counts like this - 1, 2... 5, 6 long pause 11. Then he moves on. I would hound him every time I saw him counting out numbers from 1-20. Then I realized 'WTF am I doing? Who cares what my son can do versus another child.'

It really does not matter at this age AND he is a beautiful, bright, and loving two year. He will learn to count, and he will learn to poop in the potty and he will learn to catch a ball - when he is ready to do those things.

It is funny how competitive we become when we are under pressure. I obsessed for days when everyone we knew said 'oh yeah my kid can count to 10 and even 20.' My son counts like this - 1, 2... 5, 6 long pause 11. Then he moves on. I would hound him every time I saw him counting out numbers from 1-20. Then I realized 'WTF am I doing? Who cares what my son can do versus another child.'

It really does not matter at this age AND he is a beautiful, bright, and loving two year. He will learn to count, and he will learn to poop in the potty and he will learn to catch a ball - when he is ready to do those things.

Oh no Amy!! Wait until he starts talking! My now 14 year old daughter told her doctor that she had a sore throat, when I looked confused (we were there for a check-up) she said, "mom, I told you but you were drunk"!!! Ahhhh, that was out of my sweet 5 year old!!! She thought it was "funny". Told her in the car afterwards that the authorities were going to take me away - that scared the poop out of her...never happened again...Yep, mother of the year here ladies.....

I'm sure someone quicker than me already said this... but... you should totally frame this picture of Noah next to the one of you that is used in the header/sidebar/profile thingy. He looks just like you, and it is ADORABLE!

Drink from a cup? My 3-year-old uses a sippy. Still. Sometimes I let him sip from an actual cup. Sometimes.

You did fiiiiine. You're normallllll! (as much as any of us are...)

My child is petrified of the ped, who is the nicest, calmest, funniest little man. At his 3-yr checkup, my son did not utter a word. Not a single word!!! I nearly shit my pants... Really! My child speaks. All the time. Constantly. Just not here! And he remained affixed to my neck throughout the entire exam. Stranger anxiety? No, it's just you, Mr. Doctor.

Um, did the doc mean spilling the cup on accident or on purpose? On purpose seems to happen here a lot. Oh, and my doc never asks about milestones like that. I think now I am going to overobsess and get a new pediatrician.

There should be some kind of magic list that comes to all moms telling us when our child "should" be able to do something so we're not caught off guard when the doctor asks us. I was recently asked if my 2 year old could put on his own shoes. Umm...I have no idea because I always put his shoes on for him. Was I supposed to be having him put on his own shows? Since when? Geez...I didn't know!

Typical first time mommy syndrome. Dont feel bad we have all been there and all thought our kid was retarded at one point. I know I was constantly worried with my first one but now I am pro..haha. I cant even tell you how much my 5 month old weighs and I have no idea what milestone he should met next. He is fed and happy and normal. Done.

i'm cross commenting here. Just read Jason's most recent food post. Very thoughtful and intelligent post about legislating food but all i could think about was the line "While I personally try to avoid trans fats in my sons and my own diets..." I just picture Jason and Noah sitting at the table eating healthy organic fare and Amy slurping a bowl of trans fat washed down with a yummy transtini!

Good Heavens! If I could give Matt a sippy cup at 14 yrs old I would. Giving a toddler a real cup?
Why not just give him some silly string and a gallon of bubbles ? Make sure when Noah tries out the big boy cup that he does it at the doctors ofc. He is adorable !

There's a disease in this country, and it's called Over Compensation Parenting. At least, that's what I call it. They really believe that their children are little geniuses and have to be #1 in everything, and believe that growing up is a race to be valedictorian and get into the "right" schools, ect. Pay no attention. They are idiots. Let your son eat dirt and learn his body parts when he's good and ready. I bet he's having more fun eating Goldfish and stacking blocks than the poor kids learning Chinese! My kids are watching zombie movies all day today...

This is just the first of many moments when you will second guess your parenting and second guess your child and then draw the conclusion that there must be a great big conspiracy to ensure that your progeny's true gifts are under appreciated. Just wait for school...it's sooo exhausting.

Never once, while raising my son, did I question if he was developing normally compared to other kids. Maybe a small difference between men & women there. He talks, he walks and on the weekends runs wild with the wolves in the back yard. All is good.

Before entering kindergarden, I made sure he knew the alphabet, all his numbers, could tie his shoes, knew his address, could write out his own name and read books for his age group.